The Complete Veterans Affairs Romances: Gay Military Romances
Page 63
Jay-Cee leaned against the sink, dragging Chris with him, positioning them in view of the full-length mirror on the back of the door. Chris’s slim body pressed against Jay-Cee’s broad chest with every breath. Jay-Cee hooked Chris’s arms around his neck. “Hold on,” he rasped out.
Chris was so hard. “I wish,” he panted out. “I wish.”
“What do you wish?” Jay-Cee breathed into his ear, tongue tracing a wet path around the shell of it. He wrapped one arm around Chris’s chest, fingers scratching across his nipples and down the ladder of his ribs.
“I wish you would tie my hands so I couldn’t grab you,” Chris forced out. It sounded like a confession.
Jay-Cee grasped Chris’s cock firmly, and Chris’s hands scrambled at the slippery skin of Jay-Cee’s neck. “Oh, fuck.” Chris’s back arched, and he came up on his toes as Jay-Cee jerked his cock hard and fast. “Fuck. I’m gonna come.”
“No, you’re not. Not until I say.” Their eyes met in the mirror. Chris looked desperate. “You can do it,” Jay-Cee encouraged him.
Chris’s mouth hung open as he struggled to pull back from the edge, his body trembling against Jay-Cee’s.
Jay-Cee’s eyes were black with desire, his hand spread wide over Chris’s torso, almost spanning his chest. His cock throbbed hard against Chris’s back, and he released Chris one finger at a time. He held Chris’s gaze as Chris breathed deeply, waiting until Chris closed his eyes and nodded.
Jay-Cee pushed him gently away and pulled the large white towels off the rack. “Dry off and get on the bed. I’ll be right out.”
Drying himself off quickly, Jay-Cee pulled the lube and a condom out of his bag. He didn’t want Chris to have time to start thinking again. He shut off the bathroom light, and turned down the AC in the room, then walked to the bed.
Chris’s eyes tracked him the entire time. The glass lamp shade threw multi-colored shadows on his pale skin, and his blue eyes glittered in the light.
“Hands on the headboard,” Jay-Cee ordered, crawling up the foot of the bed. “If you want me to stop, or if you need me to stop, just let go.”
Chris looked a little troubled, so Jay-Cee sat up, balanced across Chris’s thighs. “What are you thinking right now?”
Chris bit his lip. “Am I, do we, need like, a safeword or something?” His fingers were white-knuckled on the headboard.
Jay-Cee leaned forward and kissed Chris gently on the mouth. He tasted like strawberry ice cream. He didn’t force his way in, just laid soft kisses on Chris’s lush lips until he opened with a sigh. Jay-Cee brushed their tongues together, then pulled away. “We can if you want one, and it’s always a good idea, but I promise I won’t hurt you. I want you to trust me to get you where you want to be, to take care of you, just for tonight. Do you trust me?”
Chris nodded.
“Let’s pick a safeword anyway. It will make me feel better knowing that you don’t even have to think about anything.”
“Rutabaga,” Chris said without hesitation.
“Rutabaga?” Jay-Cee laughed.
“I hate rutabagas. Trust me. It’s nothing I would ever say accidentally.”
“Rutabaga it is. Now lie back and relax.”
“And think of England?”
“Think of nothing except how good it feels. And don’t come until I say you can.” He lowered his mouth to Chris’s lips, and Chris groaned.
He kneeled over Chris, kissing him deeply, licking those perfect lips, pulling Chris to him with a hand behind his neck. Chris shuddered as Jay-Cee slipped down his body. The hard nubs of Chris’s nipples drew his mouth, and he licked and sucked one while pinching the other, the metal of Chris’s studs cold against his tongue.
Chris’s hips rolled like waves on the ocean, soft sounds of pleasure mixing with deep groans as Jay-Cee took his time, using all his skill to bring Chris right to the edge and back, over and over, until they both were covered in sweat and trembling.
He bit into the incredibly soft skin of Chris’s inner thighs, feeling the flesh give under his teeth. Chris yelled, sharp and loud in the dark room, cock jerking, so Jay-Cee did it again. He left sucking bruises on the white skin, while his fingers left their mark on Chris’s hips.
Feeling the tremors under his hands, Jay-Cee pushed himself up on his hands to look at Chris. Chris’s skin was flushed from his head to his chest, and sweat dampened the hair at his temples and on his forehead. His mouth hung open, and his eyes were dark with lust, heavy-lidded with pleasure. But his hands were relaxed on the headboard as he rode the waves of pleasure Jay-Cee had created for him.
Jay-Cee reached down and clamped his hand around himself to stop from coming at the sight. Something about Chris made him lose his self-control. It was ridiculous. He never wanted to stop touching the other man. If he could, he would keep Chris naked and in his bed all the time. But all they had was this night. He was going to make it a night Chris would never forget.
Chris opened his eyes. “Is it okay? Am I doing it right?” he asked.
“You’re fucking perfect. Gorgeous, and so good for me.”
Chris shuddered, back arching off the bed, and he moaned.
“Oh. You like being good for me?” When Chris didn’t say anything, Jay-Cee slapped his flank sharply. Chris jolted, hands tightening against the headboard. A blood-red flush spread down from his cheeks and dipped below his collarbones.
“I asked you a question.” Jay-Cee smacked him again, and Chris writhed on the bed, hips thrusting into the air. Jesus. Jay-Cee seriously contemplated flipping Chris over and bringing his hand down on that perfect ass over and over until his body couldn’t tell pain from pleasure, and whether to come or cry.
“Yes,” Chris cried out as if he was reading Jay-Cee’s mind. “Yes. I like it. I like being good.” His legs spread without conscious thought. “Please, please,” he begged nearly incoherent.
Jay-Cee breathed through his nose, struggling for control. Oh God, it was going to hurt to give this up. How did this kid have such power over him already? His very existence threatened to destroy the stability Jay-Cee had spent years carefully creating.
If this was going to be a one-time thing, and it absolutely was, Jay-Cee needed to take everything Chris would give him. He needed to be inside of him right now.
He wrapped a hand tightly around Chris’s cock, feeling it jump and pulse against his palm. Not letting go, he crawled back up the bed, biting as he went. He needed to see his marks on Chris.
Locking his teeth around the metal studs piercing Chris’s pink nipples, he tugged sharply.
Chris yelled loudly, head thrashing against the pillows and hips thrusting up into Jay-Cee’s hands. “No, no, no,” he babbled. “Please, I can’t, I’m going to, fuck, please no.”
Jay-Cee released him suddenly, and Chris’s body collapsed down onto the bed, tears leaking from the corners of his closed eyes.
Jay-Cee peeled Chris’s hands from the headboard, gently flexing the fingers, kissing each one as he did. He rubbed the wood marks out of the soft skin, shushing Chris as he did. “Shh. It’s okay. You’re good. Gorgeous. Perfect.”
He lowered Chris’s arms to the bed and tucked himself up next to him, running his fingers through Chris’s hair and keeping up the string of nonsensical, soothing words until Chris’s breathing returned closer to normal. Putting a hand flat on Chris’s chest, he felt the strong thud of his heartbeat.
Chris’s body was limp on the bed, his cock still hard and straining. He wore the marks of Jay-Cee’s mouth and fingers on his pale skin. Jay-Cee had never seen anything so beautiful.
Leaning over he kissed Chris gently, almost chastely. “Are you okay?” he asked. “Can you take more?”
Chris let out a shuddering exhale and nodded rapidly. “Yes. Yes, please.”
Jay-Cee ran his hand down Chris’s chest, through the silky blonde hair in his groin, his hand not touching Chris’s cock. “Good. Because I really want to fuck you now.”
Chris’s eyes
opened wide, and his legs fanned open. “God, yes. Please.”
Jay-Cee grabbed the lube, made quick work of the condom, and positioned himself between Chris’s spread legs. He was so hard that he hoped he could hold off coming long enough to make Chris feel as good as he deserved.
Chris opened so perfectly for him. Jay-Cee’s fingers slid in as he kissed his way up Chris’s inner-thigh. “So beautiful,” he whispered into his soft skin, not caring if Chris heard him or not. Jay-Cee was an artist, and his first love was the strong muscles and curves of a man’s body. He wouldn’t apologize for that ever again. He kneeled between Chris’s spread legs. “Are you ready?”
Chris nodded, his head lolling weakly against his neck, too far gone even to speak.
“No rutabagas?”
He smiled softly, shaking his head. “No.”
Jay-Cee ran his hand down Chris’s hard length, and Chris’s eyes rolled back in his head, his eyelids fluttering closed.
“Please,” he whispered. “Please.”
He was just where Jay-Cee wanted him, drunk on pleasure, insensible to anything else but the way Jay-Cee was making him feel.
Rolling Chris’s hips off the bed, Jay-Cee shifted until he found the perfect angle. When he pushed into that yielding heat, it was better than he had ever imagined. The soft sounds dropping from Chris’s mouth only fueled the fire burning in his veins.
He stopped for a moment, getting himself under control, feeling the heartbeat inside of Chris. With a groan, he pushed all the way, bracing himself over Chris on trembling arms.
Jay-Cee rested his forehead against Chris’s head. “Touch me,” he said, voice right on the edge of begging. “God, Christopher, touch me.”
Chris’s hands flew off the headboard, scrambling across the sweat on Jay-Cee’s back, sliding down to grip onto the backs of his thighs, and pulling Jay-Cee even deeper into him. His mouth opened against Jay-Cee’s, lips meeting in a rough approximation of a kiss as Jay-Cee thrust over and over, driving high pitched moans out of Chris’s mouth.
Jay-Cee wanted to listen to them forever.
But Chris moaned almost painfully. “God, can I come? Please? Please, let me come.”
Jay-Cee throbbed so hard it hurt and his muscles locked up as he fought to stop his own orgasm. “Fuck. Yes. God, Chris. Come on, baby. Come for me.” He bore down, rubbing his body against Chris’s cock.
Chris drew in a huge breath; then his muscles tightened, mouth open on a silent scream, as he came hard. Jay-Cee held on as long as he could, desperate to watch Chris’s face until the pleasure became too much, and he came with an ecstasy that bordered on agony.
5 – Can I clear my conscience if I’m different from the rest
Afterward, when their heartbeats slowed, and their senses came back online one by one, Jay-Cee ran a bubble bath for Chris, the sandalwood scent of the bath wash filling the room. He ordered them both dinner, and, after wrapping Chris in one of the hotel’s plush towels, fed him while he sat stretched out on the bed. “Good?” he asked, placing a piece of orange salmon in Chris’s mouth.
Chris’s phone buzzed from inside his jean shorts where they lay crumpled on the floor.
“Amazing. I feel amazing. Everything is amazing. You’re amazing.” Chris’s face was alight.
The phone buzzed again. “Do you want me to get that?”
“Leave it,” Chris said, leaning up to steal a kiss. “It’s probably my friends wondering where I am.”
Jay-Cee stood up and picked up the shorts, digging the phone out of the pocket. “At least answer them and let them know you’re still alive.” He tossed the phone onto the bed.
Chris looked at the screen. “It’s Benny.” He smiled as he read the text and typed something back. Benny replied, and Chris’s eyebrows lifted in surprise.
“What is it?” Jay-Cee asked.
“Benny’s bringing a man back to the apartment.” Chris’s fingers flew across the screen.
“Who is it?” Jay-Cee asked, curious despite his better judgment, which had fled about three hours ago.
Chris shook his head. “He’s not answering me.” He typed out more messages until finally, the phone beeped. “Ah! He says ‘it’s complicated.’” Chris’s eyes flicked to Jay-Cee’s. “He doesn’t know from complicated,” he murmured. He typed one last message and tossed the phone onto the nightstand. “We’ll get the details from him tomorrow. I can’t wait to hear who snagged our little Benny’s attention.”
He wiggled his eyebrows lasciviously, and Jay-Cee laughed. It was so easy to be with Chris. Between the amazing sex, how easy it was to talk to him, and how fascinating Jay-Cee found him, Chris could own Jay-Cee with the crooking of his little finger. And he didn’t even know it.
And he never would.
After they had eaten, Jay-Cee turned off the lights and pulled Chris down under the covers. As the boy drifted off to sleep next to him, Jay-Cee vowed that he wouldn’t give in to this temptation again. He was older. He was stronger. It was up to him to redraw the boundaries he had destroyed.
Jay-Cee sat up in the bed and watched Chris sleep. He knew sleep would not be visiting him tonight. He couldn’t believe he had given in like that. Recrimination chased guilt around his head. That wouldn’t help anyone. He needed to stop his brain.
Sliding out of bed quietly, he pulled on some clothes, slid his phone into his pocket, and left the room.
It was still the small hours of the night, and the hotel lobby was empty. Helping himself to a glass of whiskey that was set out in a complimentary bar cart, Jay-Cee settled into one of the deep wing-back chairs and typed a text into his phone.
The whiskey slid down his throat, leaving its smoky aftertaste and warming his stomach. His phone buzzed, and he answered it. “Evening, Colonel.”
“Major.” Colonel Matthew Rand had been Jay-Cee’s CO for a while but his friend for longer. They hadn’t served together in years, but they’d been through horrors together, and that kind of bond didn’t dissolve under time and distance.
Matt had also been one of the only people to stand up for Jay-Cee when he had been outed. Even Jason, the man who had promised Jay-Cee they’d stay together through everything, had turned away from him. He’d chosen the service and the closet over a life with Jay-Cee.
Some days Jay-Cee envied him that decision. At least he had been given a choice.
“It’s late, what are you doing up?” Jay-Cee asked Matt, though he had been the one to initiate the conversation.
“Some lunatic texted me at three a.m. I thought it might be important.”
Jay-Cee took another sip of whiskey. “It’s really not. Just, you know, old ghosts.”
“This is the time of night they come out,” Matt’s voice was warm in Jay-Cee’s ear. “Having nightmares?”
“That implies I was sleeping.”
“I know that feeling,” Matt yawned, and Jay-Cee heard the snap of a light switch.
“Don’t get up for me, Matt. It’s really nothing. Just nice to hear your voice.”
“Don’t give me that crap, soldier. You’ve never once in your life called anyone just to hear their voice. What’s really going on?” Matt used to be a drill sergeant, and though he’d moved on the mannerisms had never quite left him.
Jay-Cee leaned his head against the chair back. “There’s this kid.”
Matt made a sound that could have been a laugh. “You adopting?”
Oh God. “No. Not like a kid kid. He’s grown. Twenty-two.”
“Ah. So it’s like that.”
Jay-Cee was glad Matt knew what it was like because Jay-Cee had no idea what was happening.
“So tell me about him,” Matt said. “If he has you making three a.m. phone calls, he must be something else. Seven years since it all went down and I’ve never heard you mention anyone else.” Jay-Cee heard Matt open the fridge, heard the rattling of bottles. He pictured the Colonel popping the cap off the beer bottle. Twenty years older than Jay-Cee and so much more solid, so s
turdy and dependable.
Jay-Cee walked over to the bar cart and refilled his glass. The lush room was dark and quiet. His sculptures stood in their niches. They were some of his first works, and they looked very much the same as the ones waiting for him back in the studio.
“Wentworth, you there, son?”
“Yeah, yeah,” He sipped his whiskey. That had to be the last one. It wouldn’t be fair to go back to Chris with alcohol on his breath. It wouldn’t be fair to go back to Chris at all.
“There’s something about him, Matt. It’s like he’s got this light inside him. He doesn’t know how strong he is. The things he’s lived through, and yet he’s so alive. He’s fearless. Like we used to be.”
“Did you sleep with him?”
Jay-Cee sighed.
Matt swallowed. “Jimmy boy, what aren’t you telling me?”
A lot of things. “He works with me. He’s one of my artists. The kid is brilliant.”
“Uh-huh. And is he, by any chance, one of your Lost Boys?” Matt had been the source of the very first Lost Boy sent Jay-Cee’s way. A stupid kid, kicked out of his home for being queer and he’d decided to enlist. A few days past his eighteen birthday and so in the wrong place. He hadn’t made it through a week in boot camp. Matt made a few calls, helped him get out, and asked Jay-Cee to give the kid a hand up.
Chris had come to Jay-Cee through similar connections. A friend of a friend had been looking for a safe place for Chris to heal.
“Yeah. No. Not really. I mean, he had a heroin problem. But he’s clean.” Even hearing himself say it, Jay-Cee knew this couldn’t happen.
“Okay. Back up, unfuck yourself, and re-approach, soldier. Are you hearing yourself?” Matt’s words were harsh, but his voice was gentle.
“Yeah.” Jay-Cee tossed back the rest of his drink, and then stood up. Taking a deep breath, he ran a hand through his hair, squared his shoulders, and exhaled through his nose. “Yeah.”
“Believe me, Jimmy. I’m the first one to want you to be happy. To not be so fucking alone all the time. It’s not good. But this, this sounds—” he sighed. “This sounds like a disaster waiting to happen. But I know you’re not an idiot, so tell me what could be good about getting involved with him at this level?”